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 Sep 2016 Megan H
Alessander
I like dancing and drinking, sometimes fighting and *******, and not necessarily in that order.

Life isn't an equation. It's not a folded napkin, windexed decanter or applebees' reservation.

Sing, smoke, scream. When you laugh, let it boom. Howl at imaginary moons.

Roar to life
 Sep 2016 Megan H
Alan S Bailey
I know there is a place in life
For all things great and wise,
But many people mistake certain
Things that are not of that guise.*
A practiced profession a vague recollection
A violent war, a hit and miss game,
People looking for others that they
Have even hurt or ruined to blame,
This is what has become and what became,
We are the "example" of purity.
Our hands soaked with blood,
A hateful flag waved in your face,
An obscene way to show "mature" grace,
This is what made America great,
To go forth, destroy, pillage, use plague,
To steal from the tribes on all counts,
Our excuse and our reasoning? Based on fear.
Showing nothing but "needed" destruction
And savagery, a form of selfish "non-villainy"
Practice an "innocent" thing called slavery,
Blame the blacks for selling them to our
***** filthy tainted "pure" white hands.
This is for what the southern flag really stands.
 Sep 2016 Megan H
Just Melz
It's mesmerizing
How your eyes look into mine
It's radiating
This intense feeling of heat
Something I just can't define
It's solid ground to stand on
It's concrete

It will never waver
Never wander
Never want for anything new
This feeling is yours
And it's mine
Me and you, babe
We'll make it through
~

I'm standing here

       In this doorway

   Halfway between where I have been
And where I will go

     *And I can't help but cry tears of joy.
 Sep 2016 Megan H
Mike Hauser
If you'd care to help
I'm saving up cans
With the brilliant idea
To build an aluminum can friend

One that shines bright
That never will rust
In whom I share secrets
One I can trust

He'll have Coca-Cola arms
And Dr. Pepper legs
Non-caffine Sprite
I'll use for his head

Don't want my aluminum can friend
To have jitters all day
Restless at night
Staying up late

I'll give him Pepsi hands
That are willing to please
So when I do chores
He can help me

For my friend on the go
I'll give Mountain Dew feet
A couple Red Bull
If I decide to do wings

And an idea that is good
Would be a Fanta heart
For a colorful beat
With all the flavors there are

So if you'd like to help
I'm saving up cans
With the brilliant idea
To build an aluminum can friend
 Sep 2016 Megan H
Autumn Rose
Upon a cold
winter's night, on
the snowy path they
wandered.
Deep in the forbidden forest.
The wise old owl that lived
in the tall oak was watching
as he sat on a branch.
Old pine,remain hollow.
He hooted to the
indifferent wind: Who?Who?
But it did not reply,
only whistling was heard
while the pinecones shivered.
The first was dressed in silver,
and her sister dressed in gold.
He stared into the moon,
seeking the truth.
So he discovered the stars
twinkling down upon them,
through the pine needles.
Brown wings of once lost light,
wisdom spoken by the night's silence.
And into the darkness they went,
The wise and the beautiful...
He was driving down ******* Boulevard
He had killers in the car
He drove with a blank stare as the killers put their clips in their pistols
His soul was the color red stained with blood from all the murders he had ordered and committed
The car came to a stop
He pointed at a white house.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Drugs, *******,
 Sep 2016 Megan H
SE Reimer
a tribute

~

memories...
in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
once-upon-a-moments;
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears,
...as we remember well.

memories...
the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined,
...as she remembers well.

memories...
so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill,
...so we remember well.

memories...
its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality.
...to for’er remember.

memories...
to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
no,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep,
...as i remember well.

~

post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
 Jul 2016 Megan H
Pauline Morris
What haunts my dreams
It's the monsters, those rabid things

Monsters disguise themselves so well
When they put on their human shell
You can't hardly tell
That under the skin a monster dwells

Yes my child monsters are real
On your soul they'll make a meal
Your spirit they will steal
Make it so you'll never heal

Once they get ahold
They'll never let you go

They well continue to dwell in your dreams
As they stomp around, those rabid things
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